The History Of Tom Riddle
by VelvetJackal
Summary: O.K., I know its very short, the next chapters will be MUCH longer, though that isn't saying much. PLEASE REWIEW!
1. Chapter 1

This is my FIRST fan fiction entry! Aren't you all proud of me! I bet you are. Especially Nat and Julia and Maddy/ie and such. Sorry it's sort of short! Okay, now that I've been all happy, I can write!

It was a dark night on which Tom Riddle was born. His mother cried out in pain and misery as he emerged, and, according to witnesses, his mothers last uttered words were him name: Tom Riddle.

He was sent to the town orphanage, and by the first year of his life there, he was known as some sort of an outcast. Strange things happened to him and to people that he didn't like. When he was screaming for a sweetie or a toy somebody had taken away, suddenly he would stop and disappear, soon to be found, quite strangely on the high shelf on which the sweets were kept that even the cooks had to use a step ladder to get at. Or if some small child snatched a teddy bear out of his hand, the thief would suddenly begin to scream for his hand would have a gash across it. Things had always been like this. And then one day, a bespectacled man with a long white beard and robes, who was quite tall, came to the door, asking for a mister Tom Riddle….


	2. Chapter 1: Hogwarts

Chapter One

Hogwarts

No reviews yet, though I only posted it about five minutes ago… Oh yay, there's one! O.K. on with the chappie!

Disclaimer: I own nothing from the Harry Potter books and I have a couple of quotes from them, bad girl that I am.

The matron called Tom (rather cautiously, for the last matron who had done this had fallen down the stairs after scolding him for not coming and was still in the hospital with a body cast) from his attic bedroom. The 11-year-old boy slouched sulkily down the stairs. The man with the silver beard and hair stood up from his straight-backed chair and held out his hand.

"I am Professor Dumbledore." Rather warily, Tom held his hand out. Dumbledore spoke again, "You must be Tom Riddle,"

"Yes, I am" Toms piercing grey eyes took in the man before him. "What are you doing here? I don't have anything wrong with me, just in case you were wondering. I'm just special. Special things happen to me. I don't… do them, they just happen." Although he put on a brave front, Dumbledore could tell that the young boy was afraid.

"I thought as much. I am not here to take you away to a mental institution. I am here to ask you to come to my school."

"Your school? What 'school' might that be?" Tom sneered.

"Mrs. Cole, may I have a word alone with Riddle?" Dumbledore turned his intent gaze away from Tom for the first time since he had scene him.

"Yes, but I must warn you…" It was obvious the matron wanted to know what was going on between this strange, secluded boy and the Dumbledore man.

"I'm sure I can handle myself." The Professor said, eyeing Tom.

"Oh, oh, of course!" Mrs. Cole said, walking backwards out of the room, "Yes, you and Tom _do _need some privacy don't you! Yes, yes, yes," and the door closed with a click behind her. But just for good measure, Dumbledore took out a long, thin wand and waved it towards the door, which seemed to….Tom couldn't quite describe it. Glow, maybe?

"Now, Tom, I have something to tell you. It is very important, and as I already mentioned, it is about my school. My school is called Hogwarts-" Tom broke in.

"You mean mental hospital. You thing I'll believe your lies, but I won't, I'm just special, it's not my fault! I-"

"You're right, you are special." Tom stared at Dumbledore in disbelief. "Now if you would just let me talk, I would tell you." Tom nodded. "Good. My school is the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Dumbledore held up his hand as Tom opened his mouth. "You said you would let me finish. Although you may not know it, your mother was a witch, although not very powerful. The rest of you family though…. Well, they were well known and powerful. Very, very powerful- this means that you are too. Now, what were those special things that happened to you?"

All of this time, Toms eyes had grown wider and wider, and it took him a couple tries to get his words out. "I- I have special things. Like luck. When something bad is about to happen… it-it doesn't." Dumbledore smiled warmly.

"I thought so. If you don't mind, I'm off to tell the matron."

"What will you tell her- er Professor."

"Being a muggle, she won't understand, so I will tell her I am your long lost uncle."

"My what?"

"You must play along." Dumbledore took out his wand and taped the door. A look of eagerness appeared in the young Riddles eyes.

"Do I get one of those?"

"The time for questions is later. Now, you must pack your bags." With a swish of his long robes, the headmaster was off. The young boy ran upstairs to pack, his mind reeling with questions.

About an hour later, Tom heard a door close behind him. He was wrapped in a shabby coat and carried an almost empty canvass bag over his shoulder.

"Do you have everything Tom? You won't be coming back."

"Yes, sir"

"Good." Dumbledore walked to the edge of the quiet street and picked up an aluminum can. Taking out his wand and holding it towards the piece of garbage. Under his breath he muttered a spell:

"_Portus_. Now Tom, come touch this can. Keep touching it no matter what, and don't let go of your bag. Now, one, two, three-" Suddenly the orphanage was gone, and Tom and Dumbledore were swirling through colors and wind and trees and flowers and food and everything else in the world. And then they landed in the middle of a packed and crowded street. Dumbledore smiled.

"Welcome, Tom, to Diagon Alley."


End file.
